The Breakfast Club
by ramen-is-my-drug
Summary: When the students of Owen Milligan, Imogen Moreno, Bianca De Sousse, Eli Goldsworthy, Marisol Lewis, and Wesley Betencamp go to Saturday school detention, they'd never expected to even have a conversation with one another, nonetheless actually bond.


_Dear Mr. Sheppard, I'm assuming that's your name with the given nickname, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us... In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is_

_a **Brain**  
an **Eccentric  
**__and an **Athlete  
**__and a **Basket Case  
**__a** Princess  
**__and a **C****riminal.  
**__  
Does that answer your question?...  
_

_Sincerely yours,_

_the Breakfast Club._

Eli Goldsworthy took a long gander at the campus as his dad's car was still running. It's not like it was his first experience of seeing Degrassi in the early morning. He had that pleasure for the five days of the week. But never on Saturday. The aroma felt somehow different on this what was supposed to be a lazy day. Maybe it was due to not having hoards of rushing students overcrowd the doors.

"Watching the paint dry isn't going to make time go any faster," Bullfrog jokingly noted. "It's only going to make my gas run out."

"I get it. You just want me out so you and Cece can embark on this wonderful day without their hormonal son," Eli humored as he started to grab his backpack.

"Yes, because I'd want you to key the car of Clarabelle's boyfriend just so me and your mother could have you out of our hair," Bullfrog replied.

"Receding for that matter," Eli concluded as he got out of the car. He didn't feel like clarifying that he was _Clare's _stepbrother, not boyfriend, and that he didn't commit the crime. He would at least be a tad more creative than go near that red truck.

Marisol Lewis kept fixing her hair in front of the mirror with one hand as she was talking to her best friend with the other. She was stalling in the campus bathroom before she had to sit those long hours with other delinquents.

"I just don't understand why I would get Saturday school for ditching. Couldn't you have pulled some strings with Simpson?"

_Mar, I am in charge of student programs of the school, not the students who ditch for shopping, _Katie replied.

"Okay, I get your point. Ugh, not again," Marisol groaned as she opened the text message that made her phone vibrate.

_What?_

"Mo is still pestering about the date tonight. Doesn't he get the message that I'm not replying for a reason," Marisol said.

_But I thought you and Mo are together...?_

"We are. But I don't want to go public with it,"

_Isn't that what is included in a relationship?_

"Easy for you to say. You've got the pretty boy- sorry, I totally forgot," Marisol started to mess up her words for the sake of realizing of the rocky relationship between Drew and Katie.

_It's fine. Look, but you should get to detention. _

"Right," Marisol said as she grabbed her purse. "Bye, love."

_And Marisol? Go on that date with Mo-_

Marisol closed the phone before she could finish that sentence.

Owen Milligan grabbed his flask of _obvious _fluids before he went into the car. Since he'd be sitting in a classroom the same amount of time he could finish the _Fast and Furious _series, he might as well make the most of it. The moment he put his key into the ignition, he saw a familiar figure run towards the driveway his car was parked in.

"Tristan, get back inside!" Owen yelled at his barefooted brother.

"Not until you tell me why you are leaving so early," Tristan said, positioning himself behind his older brother's car.

"Coach is making us get to football practice early," Owen quickly lied.

"After a Friday night game, please. Even then so, you wouldn't bother to show up. You don't even go to sleep at this time," Tristan noted.

"Well, he is. Now get the hell out of here before back into you," he threatened.

"Fine. Just promise me you won't kill _him_. I know you wanted to by the way you kept glaring at him in the hallways. Like, if you were planning to go over his house right and beat him up, please don't," Tristan begged before he made his way to their porch.

"Thank you," Owen said as he backed out but then stopped once again, "And quit being paranoid, I won't beat him up," then he drove away.

_I already did, hence the Saturday_ school.

Wesley Betencamp still had the jitters of going through the doors to his first ever Saturday school. He'd never had even a warning from a teacher before. It was like jumping from little boy Anakin Skywalker as a young to black and heavy-breathing Darth Vader, having no sort of in between void. That's how he looked at it anyway. His parents were just as appalled as he was and decided Saturday school wasn't enough punishment. He had just got over the delinquency his parents felt he had committed with the driving illegally fiasco last year. Maybe his new profound badassery would impress his girlfriend.

The students, only six of them, went into the designated room of where they were being detained which was Mr. Ewing's classroom. The room was different for they weren't the usual single desks with the hard-rock seats. They were the style and structure of the science lab tables but without the Bunsen burners. Mr. Ewing felt his speech and debate classroom would be more efficient if he had these types of tables. In other words, the teenagers had to sit alone at a big table or be forced to share it with a complete stranger. Well, acquaintance at most anyway.

People such as Eli Goldsworthy, Bianca De Sousse, Wesley Betencamp and Imogen Moreno decided to go solo on the desks. Although Imogen and Eli were on good terms, he had the face of wanting to go solo with the music blasting in his ears and Imogen wasn't one to bother someone in their zone. Bianca De Sousse was already mad enough at the world, at the moment, so she took the Eli route and blasted her iPod. This left Imogen to draw exaggerated forms of the two people that were part of the crowd that she despised. Owen and Marisol, both being members of popularity programs Imogen hated, they sat together. He was still in pursuit of flirting with her, not aware of her being off the market. And Marisol intended to keep it that way for today.

The classmates stopped their actions as the authoritative figure walked into the room. Surprisingly, it wasn't Simpson. In fact, it wasn't even someone they never recalled seeing in the hallways. Owen slightly recognized him, for this man coached their JV league when he was a sophomore. And he was quite aware of the reason why he stopped coaching.

"Good morning my fellow delinquents," the man said as he stood in front of them.

"Who are you?" Marisol asked.

"Where's Simpson?" Bianca followed up with.

"Do you even work here?" Eli concluded.

"Your beloved principal won't be hosting the six hours of your miserable lives today, so I will. And to answer your question, I was actually principal of this school. And as of Monday, I will be your Vice Principal Shep," he finally spilled. "I just wanted to get a small taste of what I'm coming back to, in assurance that I was making the right decision."

"So you're the one who called the freshman a bitch," Eli's face turned into stone as he remembered the way Clare talked about this guy when they were dating.

"Glad to know I've already made a name for myself," he smiled, holding back verbal dispute. "Anyway, I have to tend to some paperwork in my new office and get myself settled in before Monday, so I won't be breathing on your backs. But that doesn't mean I won't be checking up on you."

"Leaving six wild teenagers roam freely in a classroom? Good to know our new VP has awesome judgment," Eli remarked once again. "Do you also let students call you by your first name? Oh, I stand corrected, it's _the _Shep. So much more professional."

"You make a valid point, Wesley?" The vice principal asked, reading the roll sheet, as Eli nodded his head before the real Wesley could make any objections. "Which is why you'll each be writing an essay... an essay on who you think you are," everyone started to sigh as he uttered those words, "No essay, another Saturday school. You can thank Mr. Betencamp for that one."

_And then he was off. _

**A/N: I'm quite aware of how common writers have done the Breakfast Club Degrassi style and I just wanted to do my little take on it. There will definitely be some of the tidbits of the 80's classic in there but it won't be exactly the same thing. As for the sixth addition, I have my reasons. It was either that or I made a character OOC and I honestly didn't want to do that.  
Hope you liked the first chapter and if you'd like me to continue this, please let me know! I wouldn't want to drag a story no one likes!**


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